


Not At All Like Moulin Rouge

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Spider-Man (Movies - Raimi)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-04
Updated: 2007-01-04
Packaged: 2018-01-25 03:14:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1628573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mary-Jane is waiting for him in Peter's apartment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not At All Like Moulin Rouge

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Anna

 

 

It isn't until after the fight that Peter thinks "Damn, I should've been injured."

Injured would've made this next bit easier, according to every bit of literature in the Western world. That way, Mary-Jane would coo and nurse him back to health instead of them making awkward conversation and her realizing she should, indeed, be very, very angry with him.

He doesn't even know what the deal with the fire helicopters is until he gets there. He was expecting Towering Inferno and he got Die Hard. Twelve guys with some kind of weird flamethrowers... microwave guns, really. His inner geek went "whoa" and he almost went all comic-book and started to think up ways to out-science them before he realized that the old "dodge their fire and punch them in the face" trick worked just fine.

It's a common misconception that most of his time is spent fighting supervillains. He's only really high-profile when someone like the Green Goblin is feuding with him, then he kinda fades into obscurity, like a C-list celebrity who fights crime. But it's pretty much 90% street crime, 10% weirdos with masks. These guys were somewhere in between, which was no surprise. After Doc Ock, there won't be any new A-listers for a while. Supervillains were like elections: They came once every two years, there were attacks and bickering and sometimes Al Gore kissing someone, then things went back to normal.

Of course, those microwave guns were pretty cool. Registered at least a three on his Spider-Sense Scale. Two was automatic weaponry, one was small arms... wait, shouldn't one be knives and other melee weapons? That would probably make bare fists zero. _And oh damn, I should probably pick up something for Mary-Jane._

She would still be waiting at his apartment. His crummy, over-priced apartment. Thank God he didn't have a porn stash for her to find, but there were still his old AD&D supplements and that was almost as embarrassing.

Running into a gas station next to where the robbers' getaway car had crashed (after checking on their vital signs and giving one a web-neck brace to prevent further spinal injury), he grabbed a bouquet and dropped one of the bags of money on the counter.

"Keep the change!" he shouted over his shoulder before he got out of there. Thankfully, he managed to swing away before the cashier realized the money would have to go back to the bank. Who robbed banks these days, anyway? So cliché.

He pulls a complicated switch-back maneuver through the three buildings that eclipse his own, managing to lose the costume, switch into a hidden pair of civvies, and ghost his way back onto his own rooftop. _Yeah, let's see someone follow that._

Peter steeled himself up as he made his way down the stairs. According to every bit of fanfiction he'd ever read, this was a problem that would be resolved with hot, hot sex. That didn't lessen the pressure, just made him...

"Oh, hi MJ." Mary-Jane was standing outside his door. Literally. She had her arms crossed dourly, but gave him a mid-sized grin. Even the wedding dress managed to be somewhat congruous. He held up the flowers. "For you." _No, wait, they've for my landlord. Duh, they're for you! Way to go on redundancy, Parker._

"Thanks, they're, uh..." She threw her arms around him suddenly and kissed him. On the lips. Well then... "Thanks for not being dead."

"You were worried?"

"I was... very nonchalantly... petrified." Mary-Jane leaned against the wall. "Objectively, I know you can take care of yourself, but... you ever watch Buffy The Vampire Slayer?"

"Mary-Jane, look at me. Of course I watch BtVS."

"Well, every time that something goes right for someone on that show, it seems like they immediately drop dead of stomach cancer or something. So I thought, hey, maybe that's the grand tragedy. I get the boy, we're all set to live happily ever after, bang... like Moulin Rogue, ya know?"

"Actually, I never saw it." Peter opened the door and gestured her inside. "We should probably get those in water," he said of the flowers.

"And so I'm crying my eyes out," Mary-Jane said, very cool and collected, as she went to the sink and put water in a glass to keep the flowers. "When I realize this isn't my tragedy. Or comedy or melodrama or whatever. It's yours. And I'm the love interest. Here I thought I was living in this big romance, McDreamy or McSteamy thing that just occasionally crosses over with some epic summer action movie... but you can't share top billing with _Spider-Man_ , can you?"

Peter smiled half-heartedly at her as he collected some papers, shuffling them together and sticking them in a desk drawer. "I try."

"Don't get me wrong, you're a great guy, and it's not just that you're Spider-Man... I mean... oh, you know how you go over these things a million times in your head but they always shoot out from between your toes when you actually say them?"

"All the time."

"Being that man, it's something you do because of what's inside. It just makes obvious what I liked about you in the first place. Blindingly obvious, true, but still obvious." She ran her hands through her hair, collecting it into a tight coil and binding it with a scrunchie. "So, why didn't you tell me?"

Peter resisted the urge to look at his shoes. "It's complicated."

"Uncomplicate it." The words would've been harsh except for the way she reached out and squeezed his hand.

"I was a freak. I was shooting web junk out of my wrists, I could suddenly do... seemed like anything! I couldn't even tell my parents, and you..." Although he hadn't looked at his shoes, he had suddenly found the pattern of wallpaper over her shoulder very interesting. He refocused his attention on her eyes. _Shouldn't I be able to drown in those?_

"I was afraid of the way you'd look at me. I didn't trust you like I should've. And over time, keeping secrets... I felt like I had to keep a wall between us, to keep you safe, and the easiest way to do that was just to not even bring the secret up."

"But... are you glad I found out?"

This time the smile was 100% genuine. "I'm ecstatic."

As slow as a satellite orbiting a planet, she threw her arms around him, resting her chin on his shoulder. Through his shirt, Mary-Jane could feel the raised embroidery of his emblem.

"Everything's going to change now. Some day we're going to look back at us, these people we are right now at this moment in time, and wonder what happened to those people, full of hope and potential?"

"We're probably going to wonder how they could be so foolish, to pass up on this for so long."

She didn't answer for a moment, just pressed herself against him harder. He could _feel_ her heart beating. "Oh God," Mary-Jane said, voice thick with unshed tears. "This isn't going to be easy, is it? We're going to have to make it work. We're going to have to clip coupons and pinch pennies and save dimes..."

"I want that," Peter said soothingly, petting her hair. "I want to clip coupons with you and pinch pennies with you and oh God, did that just sound as dirty as I thought it did?"

"Yeah, a little. You freaking out as much as I am?"

"Just a tad more. You wanna get something to eat?"

"Yeah, I'm famished."

"I have a coupon for Red Lobster."

"Let's go then."

 


End file.
